


Till Now

by SailorChibi



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Cuddling, Hugging, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Names on wrists, Not Clint Barton Friendly, Not Steve Rogers Friendly, PTSD, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Post-Movie: Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Powerful Peter Quill, Protective Gamora (Marvel), Protective Peter Quill, Protective guardians, Tony Stark Gets a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, because i like that it that way, emotional hurt comfort, inspired by a tumblr post, mantis feels the pain of tony stark, my salt is back in full force y'all, no spoilers for infinity wars, not team Cap friendly, not wanda maximoff friendly, one name for your greatest enemy, one name for your soul mate, peter quill retains some of his powers, picks up immediately after civil war, soulmates tony stark and peter quill, tags subject to change as fic continues, team civil war iron man, this story assumes GOTG2 happened before civil war, tony stark's greatest enemy is steve rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-04-01 04:42:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13990701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorChibi/pseuds/SailorChibi
Summary: Almost everyone is born with two names on their wrists: your soul mate and your greatest enemy. Tony never thought much of it. His soul mate disappeared years ago, presumed dead, and his greatest enemy is definitely long dead. It turns out that neither of those things are true.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've wanted to write a Starkquill soul mate AU for a long time and someone was kind enough to commission me for it. I'm playing with the timeline here in that there is only a five year difference between Tony and Peter (Tony was born a bit later, putting him in his early forties and Peter in his late thirties). 
> 
> This was inspired by a tumblr post, but I can't seem to find it now.

Tony was seven years old (a late bloomer, Jarvis would say later, with a proud, if sad, smile) when the names appeared on his inner wrists. Like all children, he knew what they meant. The sky was blue, grass was green, and everyone had at least one name. The people who were lucky had two: that of their soul mate and that of their greatest enemy. The people were unlucky only had one: their enemy. Tony, watching the blurry grey letters slowly sharpen and darken to black, thought for sure that he would be a lucky one.

Had he been smart, he would've hidden the words and pretended that he had none. Of course, at seven years old, he didn't know that. He ran to his mother to show her the words. It turned out that she was sharing a late night snack with his father, so Howard was there too. And the look on his face when he saw Tony's wrists was burned into Tony's mind for the rest of his life. Equal parts jealousy and hatred, because the name Steve Rogers was written on Tony's right wrist, and Howard couldn't seem to decide whether it would be worse if Steve Rogers was Tony's enemy or soul mate.

Forty-some years later, Tony finally had an answer.

He stared up at the cracked ceiling, listening to the wind whistling through the otherwise empty building. It sounded eerie, like there was someone else walking around. Tony knew better than to believe that was the case, though. The roar of the jet had long since faded, and he knew now that he was alone. Rogers and Barnes had fled, along with T'Challa and their prisoner. They were probably well on their way to Wakanda by now. No one had cared enough to see if Tony was capable of fleeing too.

Spoiler: he wasn't. The suit was in terrible shape now, bent and twisted in on itself in several places. With his shield, Rogers had smashed the arc reactor that powered the Iron Man armor. It was now effectively a coffin, keeping Tony encased and helpless because he didn't have the strength to find and engage all of the emergency manual releases switches. And even if he did have that strength, it would've been pointless. He was alone in the middle of Siberia. No one knew where he was. He had no means of transport. He was dying, or at least severely injured, and the armor did provide a little residual warmth. Getting out of it would be stupid.

_I am going to die here._

The looming thought couldn't be ignored any longer. Tony's breath hitched and he squeezed his eyes shut against the burn of tears, but it didn't help. He wasn't scared exactly, but he couldn't stop himself from wondering. Would anyone find his body? Or would he freeze to death, or maybe die from blood loss, and turn into the same ice cube he always teased Rogers about being? There was something ironic about that. He hoped that someday, someone kind would come across his body and return it back to Rhodey and Pepper. They would probably want to bury him.

Something roared in the distance. An animal of some kind? An avalanche? Crazily, he thought: a ship? And then, no. Who would be all the way out here? Maybe he really was dying, and now his brain was playing cruel tricks on him. Tony tried to laugh and ended up coughing instead. Each cough _hurt_. Rogers had definitely done some damage to his chest with that shield. It was impossible to tell how much - he was numb all over. At least he wasn't in pain anymore. He supposed that was something to be grateful for.

"Why the hell would your soul mate be hanging around in a place like this, Quill?"

"How should I know? Maybe they're really into weird places."

"That would actually make a lot of sense."

"It would not!"

Tony blinked slowly, distantly feeling tears sliding down his cheeks. People did say that you hallucinated in your final moments. It had happened to him in Afghanistan, particularly during the torture and immediately after the surgery, but he'd always imagined Pepper, or Rhodey, or sometimes Maria and Jarvis, or Aunt Peggy. He didn't recognize these voices at all. It seemed like a cruel joke to imagine strangers during your final moments, but then again the universe had never been fair to someone like him.

"Is... is your soul mate a _robot_?!"

That sounded a lot closer. Tony let his head roll to the side. His vision was kind of blurry, but he could just make out some - well, he couldn't really call them people. There was what looked like a raccoon, standing up on its hind legs, carrying two guns. A tall, broad-shouldered guy who actually looked like a human; he was also holding a gun, as well as some kind of machine. And a woman, who looked human but had bright green skin and purple hair. She had a sword in one hand and a gun in the other. All three of them stared at Tony, who stared back. 

"He's not a robot," said the human guy, though he sounded kind of doubtful. He crossed the room, coming too close for comfort, but there was no way Tony could escape. He peered down at Tony and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. "I think it's a suit of some kind. It looks pretty beat up. Least that explains why my mark has been burning so badly."

"Are you sure it's not going to attack?" the woman asked. She had her gun trained on Tony.

"I don't think he's going to be doing much of anything. Rocket, come here. See if you can figure this out."

"How do you know he's not gonna sit up and attack me?" the raccoon - Rocket? - grumbled.

"I don't," the human said patiently. "But if he did, it would be no big loss." He was grinning.

"Go fuck yourself, Quill," Rocket muttered, moving closer. He slung both guns to the ground and bent over Tony, examining the armor. It only took him a minute to figure out the manual release switches. Tony couldn't help the pained cry that slipped out when the armor opened around him, pulling metal out of places where it shouldn't have been. Then he felt something warm and itchy, slowly oozing onto his clothing.

Blood, he realized in the next second. He was bleeding.

"Shit. He looks beat up bad. Aren't humans too weak to survive that kind of thing?" the woman said. "Maybe we should just leave him here."

"He's my soul mate," the human said sharply. Tony must've made a surprised sound, because the human looked back at him. His face softened. "You are Tony Stark, right?"

Tony grunted, confused. Howard had never paid much attention to the other name written on Tony's wrist. As soon as he was old enough, Tony had done multiple searches for Peter Quill. It was one of the first things he'd ever asked JARVIS to do, actually. But all those searches had come up dry. Quill was a pretty unusual last name. There had been a Peter Quill once, in the early 80's in Kansas. But he'd been abducted shortly after the loss of his mother. Tony had actually tracked down some of his family members, including Quill's grandfather. None of them had ever so much as a word from Peter Quill again. In time, even though the name on his wrist had remained black instead of turning grey, Tony had decided that his soul mate was dead.

It was something he'd come to terms with before he'd hit the age of twenty. As the years passed, a small part of him had become glad that Quill was dead. It meant that Tony didn't have to worry about facing a soul mate who might judge him harshly for the things he'd done, or worse yet want him dead. He squinted up at this human who was claiming to be Peter Quill, because he sure as hell wasn't Steve Rogers. Tony had dealt with a fair amount of people who thought they could fool him into believing they were his soul mate. 

Was this yet another lie?

"You don't believe me," the human said. He knelt with ease, pulling up the hem of his sleeve to show Tony the name written on his wrist. It read Tony Stark in a clear, concise signature that Tony recognized as surely as though he'd taken a pen and drawn it on himself. He couldn't believe it.

"It says Peter Quill here," Rocket said, picking up Tony's left arm. Tony winced and yelped.

"Rocket!" the human snapped. "Be careful. He's injured and some bones might be broken."

"Humans are fragile," Rocket muttered. "Look." He none-too-carefully twisted Tony's arm to show the inside of his wrist and the name there.

Quill's eyes went wide with wonder. "It really _is_ you," he murmured, sounding both awed and happy. It was the exact opposite of how he should've sounded. Tony tried to say as much, but his tongue felt thick and all that came out was a couple of unintelligible mutters.

"He doesn't sound good," the woman observed. She looked around, keen eyes tracking the walls. "Whatever attacked him could still be here. We should take him and go."

"Right," Quill - could it really be him? Where the hell had he been? - said. He looked at Tony and started to speak, then paused as he took in Tony's face. Whatever he saw couldn't have been good, because he took off his jacket and draped it over Tony's body. It was warm with body heat and Tony felt himself shiver, which probably wasn't a great sign. He couldn't remember when he'd stopped shivering, but it had probably been a while ago.

Then Quill sighed and said, "I apologize for this in advance." He leaned in and slowly slid his arms under Tony's body. He was obviously trying to be as careful as he could, but Tony couldn't help crying out again. Being lifted off the floor was agony. He almost missed the numbness from before.

"My suit," he managed to get out. He didn't care if he was being kidnapped, or taken away to be killed, or whatever was about to happen. But he couldn't bear the thought of leaving the armor behind for Hydra or SHIELD or someone else to inevitably find. If he'd ended up in the custody of bad people, he would figure out how to kill them and liberate the armor later. 

"Gamora and Rocket have it," Quill said, cradling Tony against his chest as he stood up with surprising ease - Tony knew he was smaller than the typical adult male, especially after months of letting visits to the gyms and eating properly list to the wayside, but he still weighed least 150lbs. There weren't many people in the world who could lift that much weight without even blinking, like he weighed no more than 5lbs. A couple of super soldiers would have been at the top of that list. Quill had to be enhanced in some way.

"Move, if you want that to be true," Gamora said. She took Quill's place in front of the armor and took some kind of instrument out of her form-fitting suit. Tony couldn't see exactly what it was, but it looked just like a black cube about the size of a Rubik's cube, though the sides were smooth. She touched the top and a soft yellow light emerged from the cube, shining down over the armor. The armor shimmered and, when the light retracted back into the cube, it took the whole armor with it.

Tony blinked rapidly, wondering if he'd really just watched that happen or if he had brain damage, as Gamora bent and scooped up the cube. She stuck it back wherever it had come from and turned expectantly to Quill. He nodded at her and turned to go leave. Rocket and Gamora fell into step behind him. It occurred to Tony, somewhat belatedly, to try and figure out how the hell the three of them had gotten here in the first place, but that question was wiped from his mind as soon as it began to form by the sight of the _space ship_ sitting just outside.

"That's my baby," Quill said with a proud smile. "The Milano. Don't worry. She's got as smooth a ride as you could ask for."

"Yeah, when you're not in the pilot seat," Rocket said.

"Shut up, Rocket. Can't get no respect," Quill muttered, rolling his eyes. He hugged Tony a little tighter and started walking towards the ship. The hatch lowered and Tony caught a glimpse of several other humanoid figures, but evidently his body had reached its limit for the day. He passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony’s whole body ached from head to toe. That was the first thing he was aware of. The second was that he was no longer laying on a cold floor, but instead on a surprisingly soft surface. He opened his eyes slowly, half-expecting to see the ceiling of the medical bay above him, and found himself looking at a slate grey roof. He blinked, muddled thoughts trying to recall whether or not the tower had anything like that.

Something shifted beside him. Tony turned his head and winced as pain rolled over him in waves. It took several long, frozen moments for the pain to ease enough for him to see the woman sitting beside him. She was openly staring at him, dark eyes curious. Above her eyes, two antennae, both of which extended from her forehead, vibrated, and then she smiled. It was an awkward smile, like she wasn’t used to it, and Tony’s pulse quickened at the sight of so many teeth.

“You do not need to be afraid,” the woman said, teeth still bared. “I will not hurt you. Peter asked me to watch over you, and help your sleep.” She put a hand on his arm. Tony jumped, then winced and gritted his teeth to hold back the pained whimper that wanted to break out. Finally the woman’s smile dimmed. Tears began to form in her big eyes.

“You are in pain,” she said softly. 

“Having a supersoldier ram his shield into you will do that,” Tony said, trying not to hiss. It hurt to speak, but not nearly as bad as it hurt trying to breathe.

“Not just physical pain. That’s temporary. This is like a river inside of you. You are sinking beneath the surface.” A couple of tears slid down her cheeks, dropping onto the sheets. 

Tony was getting really freaked out now. “That’s, um, great, thanks. Could you not –” He wrenched his arm away, half-twisting to get out of reach, and froze again as his eyes landed on the window. The room was small, cramped with only him and the woman inside, and it immediately felt like he was pressed up against the glass with no where to go, surrounded.

By space.

The dark expanse was dotted by swathes of light, stars and plants and rocks. It was the kind of sight that astronomers would’ve sold their souls for, so close that Tony could reach out and touch what might’ve been a comet. His breath caught in his throat and he started to tremble, panic clawing through him. He was vaguely aware of the woman saying something, but the words meant nothing.

Because he was back in New York, watching that mission leave his hands, seeing the sheer size of the army that it was going to destroy. All of those ships, filled with creatures waiting to destroy Earth – and Tony, insignificantly small, falling back through the portal. His last sight the very thing he was staring at right now, except now there were no burning ships.

A sudden sense of calm enfused him, washing over the panic and adrenaline. Tony’s aching lungs greedily gulped in air. A firm hand caught his chin and pulled his eyes away from the window, until he was looking into the face of Peter Quill. Quill didn’t say a word, just stared back, with his big hand still holding Tony’s chin in place – thumb stretched down, where it could just gently rub against the thrumming pulse in Tony’s throat. It was oddly soothing.

“I think that’s enough, Mantis,” Quill said. He had green eyes. Not light green like Natasha, but forest green. 

What was, Tony belatedly realized, an artificial sense of calm eased. The panic didn’t come flooding back, but Tony still trembled a little and his throat tightened. His chest was burning; he’d sat up during his panic attack, and his body was complaining loudly. Something shuffled behind him, and he turned his head just enough to see that Mantis was leaving. She closed the door behind them.

“Alright?” Quill asked, and then, “Panic attack? Was it Mantis? She comes on a little strong sometimes. She doesn’t really know any better. We’re trying to teach her, but…”

“Space,” Tony croaked with a shake of his head. Put like that, Mantis sounded like Vision. 

“Space?” Quill repeated, eyebrows furrowing.

Tony risked a glance at the window and shuddered. “A couple years ago, a portal was opened up on Earth. I flew a missile through it and destroyed a shit ton of spaceships. Then I died. My heart only restarted when I hit the ground. I’ve had a thing about portals and space since then.”

“A shit ton of spaceships? That was _you_?!” Much to Tony’s surprise, Quill grinned. “My soul mate kicked Thanos’s ass. I knew you were cool.”

“Thanos?” Tony repeated blankly. He had lots of questions about what Quill had just said, but it was easiest to seize upon the unfamiliar name.

“Big destructive purple dude. We can talk about him later. You’re safe in here, you know. My ship is awesome and Rocket is a half-decent pilot, though I would appreciate it if you never told him that.” Quill got up as he talked, pulling a black curtain across the window. Tony found it was easier to breathe when it didn’t feel like space was looming over his shoulder.

“I don’t even know who you are,” he said.

“Oh, shit, sorry. I had a whole thing planned, but then I came in and saw you… Panic attacks are the worst. I had them a lot when I was a kid after my mom died. Of course, being told on a daily basis I was going to be eaten by the aliens that kidnappned me didn’t help.”

There were so many things wrong with that sentence that Tony didn’t know where to begin. He settled for a helpless, “What?”

Quill sat, smiling sheepishly. “Right. Sorry. I’m Peter Quill. Your soul mate.” He extended a hand. Tony took it automatically and received a firm but gentle handshake.

“How did you know I wasn’t your enemy?” Tony asked.

“I’ve met him,” Quill said shortly, smile vanishing. “It wasn’t pretty.”

“I know the feeling.” Tony touched his chest unconsciously, then peeked under the shirt – not his. Quill’s maybe? – he was wearing. His torso had been bandaged. He wondered what kind of damage was underneath.

“But I guess it wasn’t all bad,” Quill went on, “because I started feeling my mark burn after that. It got really bad in the last couple of days. I figured that meant you were in danger, so my team and I headed to Earth. I’m glad we got there when we did.”

Most people couldn’t feel anything from a soul mark. Tony never had. Quill looked human enough, and he had to have human blood to have a soul mark – Thor had never even heard of them before arriving on Earth – but he also had to have magic or alien blood to make a mark react like that. Tony eyed him, burning with curiosity but not sure whether his questions would be welcome.

Quill didn’t seem to notice, adding, “I guess you’re wondering who my team is. We’re the Guardians of the Galaxy.” He spoke the name with pride. “We’ve kicked major ass a couple of times now. You’ve met Rocket and Gamora and Mantis. There’s also Drax. He’s huge, but harmless. Then there’s Gamora sister, Nebula. You’re better off staying out of her way. She could kill you before you even realized she was moving.”

“I’ve known some people like that,” Tony said, thinking of Natasha and Barton. Even Barnes. But thinking about Barnes made him think about his parents, and he hastily pushed those thoughts as far away as possible.

“I’d say they’re great, but I’m still undecided,” Quill said dryly. “Look, uh, we didn’t mean to kidnap you from Earth.”

“It’s fine,” Tony said, surprised to realize that it was true. The last week had been a complete clusterfuck. He couldn’t stomach the thought of returning to New York right now. And had Quill and his team not shown up, Tony probably would’ve frozen to death right there in that stupid bunker.

“Oh, good. I know what it’s like to be kidnapped, so.” Quill shrugged.

“I looked for you,” Tony burst out. He hadn’t even known he was going say it until the words were out. “I – I didn’t know if you were my soul mate or my enemy, but I wanted to find out anyway. Quill is an unusual name, so I think I found your family. I talked to your grandfather.”

Quill stiffened a little. “You did?”

“Yes. They just said you went missing. I thought you were dead, even though my mark never turned black.” Tony looked down at his hands. His words were, as always, covered with two slender black bands. Most people wore bands until they found their soul mate, at which point they’d leave the name uncovered, but they still kept a band over the name of their enemy.

Rogers was the only person Tony had ever known who kept both wrists uncovered, and that was because Rogers was one of the few who seemed to take _pride_ in the name of his enemy: he word Hydra was written in thick, blocky letters across Rogers’s right wrist. On his left was a name that would have surprised no one after the past week, Bucky Barnes.

Natasha, Barton and Wilson all wore bands on both wrists. So did Bruce, for that matter. One of the first things Tony had done following the Battle of New York was to create bands that could stretch exponentially. Bruce had practically teared up with gratitude, since he no longer had to worry about the bands being ripped when he Hulked out. Thor had no names at all. Sometimes Tony envied him for that.

“It would’ve been pretty hard for anyone to find me.” Quill smiled, but something in his eyes stayed dark and dull. “I haven’t thought about my mother’s family in years. I assumed they were all dead.”

“I don’t know,” Tony admitted. “It’s been a long time since I looked them up. But I can find out, if you want, when we get back to Earth.” 

Back to Earth. Where Rogers and Barnes were waiting. Where Ross was going to be _furious_. Where Rhodey was probably undergoing surgery to help repair his spine. Where Pepper would be in the middle of a media storm. Tony grew a little ill just thinking about it. Much as he didn’t like space, he also didn’t love the idea of going back to all of the bullshit that was waiting for him.

“Do you need to go back that soon?” Quill asked.

“What, are you trying to keep me here?” Tony said, aiming for light-hearted but falling flat. He really didn’t want his soul mate to turn into someone else that tried to keep him from doing what he needed to do.

Quill shrugged and smiled. This time, it reached his eyes. “No. But I would like to get to know you better. I spent most of my life wondering who Tony Stark was.”

That was weird. Really weird. The last person who hadn’t known who Tony was, was Rogers. And that certainly hadn’t gone over well. Tony was all too aware that, after getting to know him, Quill might hate him. He tried not to think about that, instead asking, “Why didn’t you ever come back then?”

“I had nothing to offer,” Quill said bluntly. “I spent most of my life as a Ravager. A criminal,” he explained at Tony’s blank look. “I also didn’t know much about Earth and how things were now. The idea of a soul mate… I mean, I’ve wondered, but most of the time it was more like a fantasy. Something far away. It wasn’t until I realized I might lose you that I got my ass in gear.”

“Fair enough,” Tony said. He couldn’t really be angry: even though he’d searched literally to the ends of the Earth, not everyone held that same fascination with soul mates. Some people either didn’t care, or actively worked to hide from their soul mates, or fell in love with other people. More often than not, it wasn’t the fairy tale ending that the stories would have you believe.

Staying in space probably wasn’t the best idea, considering everything that was waiting for him back on Earth and that he had freaked out at the first sign of space, but Tony found himself nodding. “Okay. We’ll give it a few days and see how it goes.”

Quill lit up. Literally. His eyes started to glow. “Awesome!”

“You’re glowing,” Tony said, staring at him. Quill’s eyes had turned into miniature galaxies, disturbingly easy to fall into. He had to look away, unsure of whether the sudden pounding of his heart was from fear or… something else.


	3. Chapter 3

Leaning heavily on Quill’s arm – breathing hurt, but walking was a special kind of agony that Tony wasn’t prepared for – Tony slowly moved into what Quill had told him was the common room on the ship. There was a chair sitting right inside the door, which Quill helped him ease down into. It was only once Tony was sitting that he realized he and Quill were not alone and that there were, in fact, five other people in the room.

Three he recognized. Mantis, the raccoon and the green woman. The other two he didn’t. Or make that the other three, Tony amended, realizing that the raccoon appeared to be talking to a little plant. The plant was grumbling back at him. Tony stared at them, privately fascinated. The only aliens he’d seen so far had been relatively humanoid in body shape, like Thor or Loki or the Chitauri. But the little plant definitely wasn’t.

“This is Tony,” Quill announced, one hand resting on Tony’s shoulder. “He’s my soul mate. Tony, this is Gamora, Rocket, Drax, Mantis, Nebula and Groot.” He pointed out each one in turn. Gamora turned out to the green woman who been with Peter and Rocket. Tony turned to her.

“My… my suit?” he asked her hesitantly. If all alien technology was like Asgard’s, then the Iron Man armor was probably laughably inferior to these people. But it was still Tony’s suit, and right now it was the only source of protection that he had. Although, thanks to Captain America, it probably wasn’t in any shape to be much more than scrap metal.

Gamora looked at him for a long moment before she answered. “It’s safely stored in our cargo hold, still in a cube.”

Tony wasn’t really sure what a cube was, but he nodded. “Okay, thank you.” He looked back at the others and a weird feeling flooded through him. He legitimately couldn’t remember the last time he’d spoken to a whole group of people who didn’t know who he was. Even with Thor, the other Avengers and SHIELD had been around to make sure that Tony’s whole reputation was explained. In this case, there was no one to otherwise influence these people but Tony himself. This was a blank slate.

He was speechless.

“What is a soul mate?” Drax asked.

“It’s exactly like what it sounds. Tony’s soul and my soul belong together.” Quill had a big, silly smile on his face as he spoke. “We’re a perfect match for each other.”

“Like my wife and I,” Drax said, and nodded. “Congratulations, Quill.”

“Thanks,” Quill said, while Tony tried to remember how to breathe. When was the last time someone had so casually claimed him in public? Even when he and Pepper dated, they’d been walking a thin line between openly dating and being conscious of the fact that the press could – and would – take anything the wrong way.

It occurred to him then that even Quill might not know, and he had to ask. “Do you know who I am?”

Quill blinked. “You’re Tony?” he answered uncertainly.

Tony shook his head. “No, I mean – my, my last name. It’s Stark.”

Now Quill looked confused. “Yes, I know.”

“Do you know anything about the Stark’s?”

“No. I was kidnapped when I was eight years old. My marks only appeared a couple of months later,” Quill said. 

It was easy to fill in the blanks of what Quill wasn't saying, which was that he would've been preoccupied with other things before that. Tony remembered reading about the death of Meredith Quill. Apparently she'd wasted away over the course of several months. Her son had gone missing the same night she died. Well, not really 'gone missing'. Abducted by aliens. The conspiracy theorists and alien enthusiasts on Earth were going to have a field day if they ever met Quill: finally, someone who really had been abducted.

"Does your name mean something on your planet?" Gamora asked. She had the same blank expression that Natasha did. Tony couldn't tell what she was thinking, and that made him uncomfortable.

"My family is well known," he said. At some point, he would have to tell Quill the truth about who Tony Stark really was and the horrible things he'd done. But that was not a conversation to be held in the midst of a bunch of strangers while they were in space, fuck knows how many miles away from Earth. If they kicked him out of the ship right now, there was no way Tony would survive.

"I am Groot," said Groot. "I am Groot. I am Groot."

"I'm not royalty," Tony said, privately amused at the thought. Rogers would have a coronary at the idea.

"You understand Groot?" Rocket said. It was the first time he'd spoken. He was fiddling with a little round object, but now he stopped what he was doing to stare intently at Tony.

"I - yes?" Tony said, a little confused. To him, it was no different than understanding what Dummy meant when he beeped. Tony had spent _years_ having conversations with Dummy long before JARVIS or Friday were there to interpret for him. He would've had an extremely boring few years before he went to MIT otherwise, since he had no other friends.

Nebula, who had yet to say a word, stood abruptly and left. Gamora got up and went after her. Tony stared after them, wondering what he'd done wrong. His gut coiled with anxiety, but then the hand on his shoulder squeezed. He looked up automatically just in time to see Quill smile down at him. Quill mouthed the words 'it's okay' and squeezed again. Even though they had just met, the words and action were every bit as calming as seeing Pepper's wink or the tip of Rhodey's head that always meant he was amused.

"Here," Mantis said. She set a cup own in front of Tony. "This will help." She looked at Drax as she spoke, who nodded approvingly.

"It's tea," Quill said. "Safe for human consumption. I've tested it."

"Are you part-alien?" Tony said, remembering his theory about why Quill's mark had burned, hands hovering over the tea.

Quill squinted at him. "Maybe?"

Amused in spite of himself, Tony picked up the cup. The tea smelled pleasant, kind of fruity, which was surprising considering that Tony had never been a big fan of tea. Bruce used to drink it _constantly_. Tony had forever been finding different kinds of tea, both bagged and loose, all over the lab, Bruce's workshop, and the kitchen. Clint had been the only other person who shared Bruce's affinity for the drink; now, knowing about Clint's family, Tony knew that was because Laura favored tea over coffee. 

Thinking about the Avengers that way made him sad. They'd lived together for less than six months, but those had been some of the best months of Tony's life. He'd really believed that he'd found the place where he belonged It had never once occurred to him to think that Rogers was keeping such a horrible secret, or that all of the Avengers were using Tony for his money, or that none of them thought very much of Tony and would have been happier if he'd never been a part of the team in the first place. Tony had been blind, and he'd paid the price for it.

He sighed, blowing away the rising steam, and drank before common sense could stop him. It tasted a little like honey, with an exotic tang he couldn't identify. When he didn't immediately keel over, Tony continued to drink until the cup was empty. His head was a little clearer by the time he swallowed the last mouthful, and he realized that the horrendous ache around his midsection had eased. It still hurt, but it was now more comparable to a bad bruise as opposed to a full-on break in the bone.

"Thank you," he said.

Mantis smiled, and her antennae slowly curled and then uncurled. "You are welcome." She took the cup back and moved back to a little counter that ran along the side of the room. Tony watched her place the cup back on the counter, beside an oblong container. He wondered if that was where the tea had come from.

“So what happened to you?” Rocket asked bluntly. “Someone try to kill you?”

“Rocket!” Quill said.

“What? It’s a fair question! I want to know if the ship’s gonna be beseiged.”

“Someone did try to kill me,” Tony said before Quill could answer. That was the truth, wasn’t it? He remembered the cold, hard look in Rogers’s eyes as the shield was raised over Tony’s head, paired with the way that Rogers and Barnes had walked away without a second glance and abandoned him in Siberia, and shivered. Yes, Rogers had wanted to kill him.

“See?” Rocket said.

“Your ship is okay, though. They’re human. And they wouldn’t attack you anyway,” Tony told them.

Rocket was eyeing him, clearly disbelieving. “Why did they attack you?”

Tony’s throat hurt. His mother’s face flashed before his eyes. Grief swelled in his chest. He could barely speak. “One of them murdered my parents.”

Quill reared back, looking stricken. Drax, however, nodded coldly. “Your actions were just,” he said. “My wife and daughter were murdered as well. The one who was directly responsible is dead, and I have vowed to kill Thanos as well.”

Thanos. That was the second time that name had come up, and it was obvious from the way the mood in the room changed that it meant nothing good. He desperately wanted to change the subject from Rogers and Barnes, so he said, “Who is Thanos?”

This time Quill, in a very gentle voice, told him about the so-called Destroyer of Worlds, who was after something called the Infinity Stones. This time, the tightness in Tony’s chest had very little to do with physical damage or grief and much more to do with fear. He thought of all the helpless people on Earth who would be killed before they even knew what was happening and thought he might vomit.

He remembered, suddenly, a blip of a conversation that had taken place on the Helicarrier, right before he and Rogers got into it for the very first time. The room had been tense, with Natasha, Bruce, Fury, Rogers, and Tony all standing around on edge. Thor’s haughty voice echoed in Tony’s ears as clearly as though the god were standing in the room with him right now.

_"Your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it... and his allies. It is a signal to the Realm that Earth is ready for a higher form of war!"_

Had they done this? SHIELD? Tony’s father? Hydra? Anyone and everyone who had ever touched that fucking cube? It was like a huge red arrow pointing to Earth, begging someone in the cosmos to come destroy a planet that couldn’t even begin to hope to defend itself. They’d gotten lucky until now, with Loki and the Chitauri, but if Thanos got to Earth than Tony had no idea what they would do. The Avengers weren’t even a thing now.

He couldn’t believe he’d forgotten this until now, but in the wake of everything else that had happened since then the conversation had seemed insignificant at the time. Fury had made a comment about Earth being hopelessly out-gunned, and then… well, then Tony had put two and two together and come up with nuclear weapons. And then Rogers had jumped all over that, accusing Tony of making it all about himself. Then Loki had attacked… and everything had fallen apart.

“No one has stopped him?” Tony said. It was an effort to keep his voice calm, and he still heard a tremble in it.

“We will,” Quill said, looking determined. “That’s why we’re called the Guardians of the Galaxy.”

Some part of Tony wanted to laugh. The Avengers couldn’t even protect Earth. “I think I need to lie down again, if that’s okay.”

“Of course. Do you want –” Quill took a half-step forward and lifted his hands, but Tony waved him off.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you.” He stood with effort and turned to leave. He was startled when Groot ran past his feet and darted through the door, then turned to back at him.

“I am Groot!” Groot said, beckoning.

“I guess I have a guide anyway,” Tony said, trying to smile. His face muscles felt stiff, so it probably looked more like Mantis’s weird pantomime of a smile than anything. He walked slowly to the door and followed Groot through. The door slid shut automatically behind. For a moment, he thought he’d lost Groot; he jumped when Groot suddenly appeared by his feet and effortlessly scaled his leg, belly and chest, so that he could perch on Tony’s shoulder. He was so light that it didn’t even hurt.

“I am Groot. I am Groot,” Groot said.

Suddenly weary, Tony nodded instead of responding. He wanted to believe the Guardians’ claim that they would destroy Thanos, but, with the nightmare that Maximoff had shown him floating in front of him whenever he closed his eyes, that was difficult to believe. He knew what this meant, though. Tony didn’t have the luxury of spending time in space, getting to know his soul mate.

He had to go back to Earth.


	4. Chapter 4

Tony had a bad night. He woke several times screaming about people Peter didn’t know, each time sounding completely _terrified_ by whatever his nightmares were showing him. It was a change from the nightmares he’d been having before, which involved begging some guy named ‘Rogers’ not to kill him. Peter, who had spent several hours sitting at Tony’s bedside, privately resolved to punch this Rogers in the face at some point.

But there was nothing he could about these nightmares. Close what would have been the end of a normal sleep cycle, Peter slipped into his bedroom with more tea. This one was designed to help Tony sleep without dreams, good or bad. Tony mumbled something about ‘Jarvis’ and drank the tea, eyes muddled and confused, and slipped back into sleep before Peter could even help him lay down. Peter waited a moment to be sure he was truly sleeping before he left.

Peter had lied, which was probably not good. He figured that lying to your soulmate was one of those things that you just didn’t do. Not that he would know. Starting with middle school, children on Earth were required to take a class that taught soul mate lore and schooled them on all the nuances that came with having a mark. Peter, however, had missed out on taking that class by a couple of years.

What he knew of soul mates and marks, he’d gleaned from various sources here and there. He’d guarded those scraps of information zealously, even though he’d never thought he would meet his soul mate. In that, at least, he had been perfectly honest: he’d had nothing to offer Tony. Still didn’t, really. For all their heroics, sometimes he and his team still resorted to scravenging to put food on the table.

But all that had changed when Peter’s soul mark started to burn. It had begun as an uncomfortable itch that progressed into a painful burn within the span of a day. Something, Peter didn’t know exactly what, compelled him to return to Earth as quickly as he could. Fortunately they weren’t in the middle of a mission, and the others hadn’t argued against the impromptu trip. Rocket had even produced a machine that could latch onto the unique energy signature that existed between Peter and his soul mate and track it, which had led them directly to Tony.

Tony, who Peter had almost lost before they spoke more than a handful of words. Peter ground his teeth together, trying not to remember the sight of Tony, covered in blood and closer to death than life, laying alone in the freezing cold. It hadn’t even crossed his mind that maybe they shouldn’t take Tony with them. All that had been going through Peter’s mind was that Earth didn’t deserve his soul mate.

He still kind of thought that, to be honest. Nothing about Tony’s actions, reactions or words suggested that he’d been treated well – Peter could still, when he closed his eyes, see the awful expression on Tony’s face when he admitted that someone had murdered his parents and then that same person had tried to kill him! Peter wanted to put his fist through the wall when he thought about it, because it made him remember the cool derision in Ego’s eyes when he’d talked about putting the tumor into Meredith Quill’s brain.

He breathed deeply, trying to control his anger and not put another hole in his beloved ship, and kept breathing until his frantic heart rate had slowed down a fraction. Tony Stark. Peter _had_ heard the name before. It would’ve been pretty hard for anyone living in the United States not to. Even in rural Missouri, there had been news of Stark Industries – good, bad and everything that went with it.

Of course, most of that information had been about Howard Stark. Peter had been eight years old when he was kidnapped; if he remembered correctly, Tony had been just five years older. At thirteen, no one was ready to be thrust into the eye of the public. If Peter tried really hard, he could just bring to mind a grainy picture of a small, solemn boy captured between an equally small, dark-haired woman and Howard Stark. Peter hadn’t paid the photograph much attention at the time. It had held more significance after he was kidnapped and his soul marks eventually showed up.

Absently, he touched his wrist. Tony Stark was written on one wrist. Ego was written on the other. For years, Peter hadn’t know what that one word meant. He’d foolishly wondered if maybe pride could be someone’s worst enemy. It made sense, so why not? Hadn’t stopped him for getting ridiculously cocky (Gamora’s words), but it was something that had always lingered in the back of his head.

It turned out the truth was far worse.

His mother used to rant about Howard Stark once in a while, whenever the man had made the news with some new weapon. Peter vividly remembered Meredith Quill shaking her head and muttering something unflattering about people who made money off the deaths of other people. That was before she got sick, though. After that, no one paid much attention to the news.

So Peter had lied, because it wasn’t like he’d been in contact with Earth after he’d been kidnapped. What he knew about the Starks was the bare minimum, and Tony had looked so uncertain and… well, Peter didn’t want to use the word afraid, because he’d already learned enough about Tony to know that Tony wouldn’t appreciate it, but that was definitely the first word that came to mind. Tony didn’t want him to know who the Starks were. That was fair, as far as Peter was concerned, but it also made him wonder a little what could be so terrible.

Then again, he only had to look at the people around him to know that sometimes pasts were things that people desperately wanted to leave behind. Peter himself had one of those; he would’ve gladly forgotten Ego and how blind he’d been if he could have. Unfortunately, the ability to self-alter memories was not one of the few… _remnants_ that he’d been left with. 

“Peter? Are you up there?”

At the sound of Gamora’s voice, Peter turned around quickly and managed to dredge up a smile. He and Gamora had kinda, sorta, had something going on for a little while there, but it had quickly become blatantly obvious that Gamora was not interested in that way. She liked to flirt, but that was about as far it went for her: she didn’t want anything more. He and Gamora had made the mutual decision that they were better left as friends.

It hurt a little at the time, but now it was just as well. Plenty of people didn’t marry their soul mates, but Peter couldn’t deny the irresistible tug he felt towards Tony. The surge of enraged protectiveness that had flooded through him when he’d caught his first glimpse of Tony, dying on the cold floor, had left him breathless. Those feelings hadn’t really subsided; he felt them anew every time Tony winced as he stood or made a quiet sound of pain when he reached for something without thinking.

Gamora’s head emerged into the cockpit. “What are you doing? I thought Rocket put the ship on auto.”

“He did, but you know. Just wanted to make sure we weren’t going to hit… something.” Peter gestured at the glass and then paused, realizing that the space around them was empty. He frowned, then looked sheepishly back at Gamora. She rolled her eyes at him and climbed the rest of the way up.

“I think we’re safe,” she said critically, putting her hands on her hips. “Unless you think we’re going to bump into something invisible, which you couldn’t guard against anyway. So what’s the real reason you’re up here?”

Peter sighed and turned away, looking back down at the control panel. Even though it had been rebuilt at least three times, it was as familiar to him as the sight of his own hands. He and the Milano had been through a lot together. The ship had served him and his team very well. He wondered what Tony thought of it and remembered Tony’s reaction to seeing space for the first time, then couldn’t contain a grimace.

“Do you regret bringing Tony on board?”

“What?” Peter said, shocked, spinning back to face her. Gamora watched him intently, like he was a puzzle that she didn’t recognize but desperately wanted to figure out.

“It was a logical conclusion to draw. You’ve been off since we found him,” she said. “If you don’t want him here, we can get rid of him. We can take him back to Earth, or find a half-decent planet and leave him there –”

“No!” Peter exclaimed, horrified by the thought. 

Gamora cocked her head. “It was just a suggestion.”

“I know. I know that, I just – ” Peter forcibly reined himself in. Yelling at her wouldn’t make a difference. Gamora didn’t have a soul mate, so she wouldn’t be able to understand how revolting that idea was. Hell, five days ago _Peter_ wouldn’t have understood. 

He tried again, easing up on his too-sharp tone. “I really don’t want to do that. I’m not angry at Tony. I’ve been waiting to meet him for a long time. Longer than I realized. I’m just… angry at the circumstances, I guess.” Angry that his soul mate woke up screaming and that Peter couldn’t do anything about it. Angry at himself for even feeling that way. He’d never become so attached to someone so quickly. It was frightening.

But that was his own hang-up. It wasn’t Gamora’s or Tony’s fault. Peter just wasn’t used to caring about someone that much – he had the team, but Tony was still different somehow. He looked at Gamora again. She was just standing there, waiting for him to finish. A little bit of yelling had never upset her. If anything, she gave as good as she got and Peter loved her for it.

“I wish we could’ve met on Earth. Whether we stumbled across each other, or met up in some other way… it would be easier than this. I don’t even know him. He doesn’t know me. What if he hates me?” He hadn’t been lying when he’d told Tony that he had nothing to offer.

“That’s stupid,” Gamora said bluntly.

Peter winced. “Please, tell me how you really feel.”

“I just did,” she said. “Look, I don’t know if he’s a good person. The only way to find out is to go ask. Talk to him. Get to know him. Let him get to know you. Isn’t that what you told me about Nebula?”

“I’m not really sure your method is going to work for Tony and me…” Peter pointed out. Gamora’s and Nebula’s way of ‘getting to know each other’ seemed to consist of beating the crap out of each other and calling it sparring. 

She smirked at him. “Obviously. But you need to find a way that will work. And sulking up here is not going to do it.”

“I wasn’t sulking. I was thinking.”

“About?”

“Parents,” Peter said. When her expression darkened, because Ego was still a sore point for everyone, he hastily added, “My mother. I remember she used to rank a lot about Howard Stark. That’s Tony’s father. But I still wish she was here. I wish she could’ve met Tony.”

Gamora didn’t say anything. Peter didn’t really expect her to. Family was a sore spot with most of the Guardians, whether it was because their families had been lost or taken, or because they’d never had one. He started to regret bringing it up, and wished that he’d made up some excuse. But then Gamora closed the distance between them and looked at him very seriously.

“He’s your soul mate. You said he was your perfect match. Doesn’t that mean your mother would have loved him, as she loved you?”

Peter blinked for a moment. “I… didn’t think of it that way.”

“That’s because you’re an idiot,” Gamora said, not unkindly. “Get out of here, Quill.”

“I’m going,” Peter said. “Thanks.”

She just shrugged at him and he took that as his cue to go, sliding down the ladder into the living area below. Suddenly all of his earlier agonizing seemed a little silly. Gamora was right. The only way to protect Tony was to get to know him better, and know exactly why Tony looked so afraid and who had conspired to make Tony’s life so miserable. It wouldn’t be an easy talk, because Peter would have to explain himself and his past too, but, for the first time, he thought he could do it.


	5. Chapter 5

“I lied.”

Tony startled a little, nearly dropping the weapon he’d been fiddling around with. Out of all the Guardians, he’d warmed up to Rocket and Groot the quickest. Groot was a sweetheart once he knew you were willing to let him ride on your shoulder, and Rocket was incredibly smart. He also had an apptitude for mechanics that rivalled Tony’s own. They’d already had a couple of in-depth conversations about Earth technology that had left Rocket grudgingly impressed.

Drax and Gamora were friendly, if a little reserved: Tony couldn’t blame them for that. Mantis seemed to like him, but her ability to touch someone and know immediately what they were thinking was creepy enough that Tony tried not to get left alone with her. Nebula, on the other hand, was avoiding _him_. Tony didn’t take it personally. Frankly, he was surprised he was getting as warm of a reception as he was.

He turned very carefully to look at Quill, trying not to moved his upper body too much. Gamora had admitted that the tea he drank every hour had medicinal properties in it; she couldn’t, or wouldn’t, tell him much more than that, but Tony didn’t need to understand the details to know that the tea was having a remarkable effect. Even after roughly two weeks on the ship, it still hurt to walk and breathe. But he thought he was progressing at a rate that human doctors would have envied.

It occurred to him, in his darkest moments, that Bruce would’ve _loved_ a sample of the tea. Tony did his best to push those thoughts away and not dwell on them. Thinking about his former team hurt too much. Even the ones who hadn’t participated in the fight, like Bruce and Thor, had still left. In Bruce’s case, he’d left without a word of goodbye.

“You what?” he said finally, staring at Quill.

“I lied. I do know your family name, kind of. I remember my mom talking about your dad and his company. They made weapons, right? And I think I saw a picture of you once.” Quill stepped closer and sat down, facing Tony. His face was open and earnest. “But that’s as much as I know.”

Tony’s stomach flipped over and he didn’t say anything for a moment, too surprised. Not that Quill had heard of his family after all – even back when Howard ran the company, the Starks were something of a household name – but that Quill had been so _honest_ about it. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d dealt with someone who was this upfront. Even Rogers, who would’ve told anyone that listened that he was as honest as he came, was far more fond of half truths and lies by ommission than was healthy.

As the silence dragged on, Quill’s face fell. “Oh shit. You’re mad at me, aren’t you? I’m sorry. You just didn’t seem to want me to know and I really don’t know much, but Gamora pointed out that I should tell you anyway. Actually she said we should talk period, because there’s some things about me you should know and I’m sure that goes both ways, but I understand if you need some time.”

Another shocker. It seemed Tony had finally found someone who realized you couldn’t just drop a bomb on someone and then expect everything to be okay in the same breath. He had to breathe through the rush of bitterness, straightening up a little to ease the slight tension on his ribs. Quill immediately began to look concerned, but Tony waved his hand.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I was just surprised, that’s all,” Tony said. “I guess… you’re right. We should talk.” The thought wasn’t thrilling. In Tony’s experience, talking usually signified the end of a relationship. He always did okay at the sex and whirlwind romancing part, but as soon as as anything serious entered the picture that was it. 

“Okay,” Quill said, still looking a bit worried. “I don’t know where to start.”

The admission made Tony relax a little. Knowing Quill was nervous about this helped, and it was another reminder that they were soul mates. They were made for each other. Keeping that fact firmly in mind, Tony said, “Well, the reason I didn’t want you to know about my family is because we built weapons. A lot of weapons. It’s what our company, Stark Industries, did for _years_ up until a couple of years ago. Now we’ve moved into green energy, prosethetics and other technology.”

That wasn’t the whole truth, obviously. Rogers wasn’t the only one who was good at lies by omission. But Tony wasn’t the kind of person to just lay everything out to someone he’d just met, soul mate or not. If things worked between him and Quill, Quill would probably eventually hear about all of it. Just… not right now.

Quill nodded slowly. “Is that… bad? That you built weapons?”

“… yes?” Tony said uncertainly. Everyone else certainly thought so. “It turned out that someone who worked at my company was dealing weapons to the other side. A lot of people died.” 

“But that wasn’t your fault,” Quill said. “Did you know?”

“Not at the start. I trusted the wrong person.” Even after all this time, thoughts of Stane could still make Tony feel nauseated. 

“It’s not always easy to know who to trust. Sometimes you think you can’t trust someone, and then it turns out in the end you can but it’s too late,” Quill said. “The head alien who kidnapped me – it turned out he really was just trying to protect me, but I didn’t know that. Idiot never bothered to explain to me.” He rolled his eyes, but there were lines across his forehead that suggested there was a lot more to the story.

“Protect you from who?” Tony asked, glad for the chance to shift the attention off himself for a few seconds.

Quill sighed. “My father.”

“Your father?” Tony repeated. He kept his voice calm and devoid of emotion. Tony, of all people, knew that parents weren’t always what they were supposed to be.

“Turns out he wasn’t the roguish, David Hasselhoff kind of guy I always imagined. He was actually a Celestial. Kind of a god-like thing. He fell in love with my mother and then killed her because she was becoming too much of a liability.” Quill was obviously attempting to sound just as flat as Tony, but he failed. Tony could hear the tremor of emotion and his heart went out to him.

Cautiously, he put a hand on Quill’s arm. Tony was a touchy feely guy, but only with certain people like Rhodey or Pepper – he’d been rejected too many times to be that way with everyone. Prolonged touch required a level of trust that he usually wasn’t comfortable with. His heart rate quickened as he waited to see if Quill would tense or push his hand away. And for a second, it looked like Quill was going to: he moved his arm, but it was only to turn his hand so he could take Tony’s hand and hold on.

“I thought my father killed my mother for years. I thought he was drunk and crashed the car,” Tony said suddenly. Then he blinked in surprise at himself. He hadn’t admitted that out loud to anyone, not even Rhodey or Jarvis. 

“But it wasn’t,” Quill said, looking at him. “You said the person who hurt you killed your parents.”

Tony’s throat was tight. “Yeah. It’s… it’s a long story.”

Quill squeezed his hand. “We’ve got nothing but time.”

“I don’t…” Tony trailed off and shook his head. He had to talk about the Avengers at some point. “There were supervillains appearing on Earth. This organization called SHIELD brought together a group of people…”

Slowly, haltingly, he explained about the origin of the Avengers. He kept the details fairly brief, not going into much detail about any of them. It was easier that way, though it made the ache in his chest no less prominent. Quill was an excellent listener, keeping quiet and letting Tony speak. At least, until Tony got to the point where he’d flown a missile through the sky. Then Quill’s face split into a grin.

“You dealt Thanos a huge blow that day,” he said. 

“I didn’t even know who it was. I mean, I saw the ships. That was hard to miss.” He was a little anxious just thinking about it. “But all I knew was that I couldn’t let that missile explode in New York. It would’ve killed hundreds of thousands of people.”

Quill nodded. “So then what?”

“Well, the Avengers split up for a while. I thought we were a team, but in retrospect we weren’t. We fought together, but there was no trust. We were just a group of people with the same goal.” Tony paused. He contemplated telling Quill about the fall of SHIELD, but figured there was no point. That was, at the moment, miscellaneous detail.

So he continued with Ultron. He didn’t look at Quill’s face while he talked about the Maximoff twins, Ultron’s birth or ultimate defeat. Though he was trying to keep it as factual as possible, he just couldn’t look at Quill. Ultron wasn’t Tony’s fault. Rhodey had finally beaten that into his head. But he still felt responsible to some degree for everything that had happened. At the very least, Wanda Maximoff had played him.

“Hang on, I’m confused. Did Maximoff actually want to be an Avenger?” Quill asked.

“Um, I think so. She was made one, anyway.”

“Even after what she did? Did she ever apologize? Or admit that she was wrong?” Quill was frowning. At Tony’s curious look, he added, “Nebula was our enemy for a long time, but it was against her will. She didn’t want to do what she was doing; Thanos was forcing her. While she didn’t apologize, she’s made it clear that she regrets what she did and believes it was wrong. I’m… having trouble imagining keeping her around if that weren’t the case. And she doesn’t have the power to get into my head.”

Tony shrugged. “I’m pretty sure she didn’t regret anything. Maximoff was never wrong.” Oops, that sounded a little _too_ bitter. He cleared his throat.

Quill’s frown deepened. “I see what you mean about not being a team. But how did all that lead to this?” He waved his free hand to indicate Tony’s body.

“Well, after what happened with Ultron, the United Nations came together and decided to create this thing called the Accords. It wasn’t meant to restrict us. It was more about holding people accountable for what they did. Having consequences. That kind of thing. Some of the Avengers agreed with it and some didn’t. Rogers… Rogers thought the Accords were evil. He refused to sign them.

“At the same time, Rogers’s old friend Barnes was found to be alive. He was brainwashed into being the Winter Soldier. Rogers was adamant no one was going to arrest or touch Barnes. After a whole bunch of stuff happened, the three of us ended up in that bunker where you found me. An enemy of ours had some footage.” Tony’s hands were starting to shake. “Footage of… of my parents being killed. By Barnes.”

“Tony,” Quill breathed, looking stunned. “That’s… _shit_.”

Tony actually chuckled. “Yeah, that about sums it up. The worst part was that Rogers knew. He’d known since before Ultron. He just didn’t tell me. I was angry and attacked him. He and Barnes teamed up again me. They’re much stronger than your average human. The end result was what you saw,” he finished quickly, feeling at once sick and weak and scared. Everything he hated.

Quill stared at him, lips parted slightly like he wanted to speak but had forgotten what he wanted to say. They sat in silence for a long moment before Quill suddenly shook his head. “When I see that Rogers guy, I’m going to kill him.”

Startled, Tony looked at him. “What?”

“I can’t believe he would do that to you! To someone who was his teammate!” Quill was looking incensed now. “He let you find out about your parents by watching it happen?! And then he beat you nearly to death when you punched him for not telling you sooner?!” His voice was getting louder and angrier.

“You sound like Rhodey,” Tony said, bemused. It was weird watching someone else get angry on his behalf. Weird, but kind of nice at the same time.

“Then Rhodey is a very smart man,” Quill said aggressively. “I almost lost you because of some asshole!”

Tony couldn’t deny that. He might have died had Quill and the other Guardians not shown up. “You may get your chance to kill him if you come back to Earth with me,” he said quietly.

“What?” Quill said.

“I have to warn people about Thanos. I can’t just let them die,” Tony said. His voice was shaking. He’d never been more at war with himself. He didn’t want to go back, except that he did. He was terrified of what he would find. He thought that about two or three weeks had passed while he was in space, but he didn’t know that for sure. He hoped that Quill, and maybe the rest of the Guardians, might come just because of Thanos.

Quill frowned, then scowled, then sighed. “Okay, I can see that. I will definitely come with you under one condition.”

“Which is?”

“I’d like you to heal first,” Quill said earnestly. He was still holding Tony’s hand. Now, he took Tony’s other hand as well. “I want you to be at full strength.”

Tony hadn’t been at full strength for decades, but he didn’t have the heart to explain that. Though his instinct was to set aside his personal health, he wanted Quill to go with him more than he could say. So he nodded, relieved when Quill smiled, and said, “Okay. I agree.”


	6. Chapter 6

Sitting quietly aside and letting others go to battle in his place had never been Tony’s thing. So to say that it was frustrating to be confined to the ship with Mantis and Groot while the rest of the Guardians dealt with a problem was an understatement. He squirmed with frustration as Gamora was thrown roughly into the air; she somehow landed on her feet and lunged forward, sword at the ready.

“Are you ill?” Mantis inquired, cocking her head. Her concern appeared to be genuine, which was why Tony restrained himself from snapping at her.

“No, I’m fine,” he said testily. His fingers tightened around the gun in his lap. Rocket had given it to him, citing a need for the ship to be protected in the event that the other Guardians fell. Tony was pretty sure that Rocket thought that would never happen and was just humoring him. He’d already figured out how to use the massive thing, and had even noticed a couple of spots where the finer mechanisms could be improved.

“You don’t look fine,” Mantis said, her antennae curling and uncurling rapidly. “Should I call Peter?”

“I am Groot,” Groot added.

“Guys, really. All good.” Tony turned away from in the hopes of ending the conversation. Part of the problem was that he couldn’t stop thinking about how, if he had the armor, he’d be out there in the middle of the battle, kicking ass and taking names.

Briefly, when Rocket had mentioned several hours ago that the Guardians had a new request for aid, Tony had entertained the thought of climbing into the armor and helping. But standing up had cured him of that idea pretty quick: the pain in his chest was a vivid reminder of how much damage had been done to the armor. Tony hadn't seen it yet, but, after having two supersoldiers pound the shit out of it, he was pretty sure that he'd be lucky if the armor was useable as anything other than scrap metal. There was no way he'd find everything he needed to fix it out in space - and that was if it could even be fixed.

That didn't mean Tony couldn't do something, though. He lifted the gun, which was lighter than he would have expected considering the size, and took careful aim. Quill shot by and Drax leapt over the creature. There was a split second during which Tony had a clear view, and he used it well. He didn't hesitate, squeezing the trigger. A bolt of green light leapt out of the end of the gun. The harsh recoil made Tony gasp in surprise as the green light smashed straight into the creature battling the Guardians. With a high-pitched shriek, the creature fell over and... melted?

"I am Groot. I am Groot!" Groot said.

"Uh, thanks," Tony said, blinking rapidly. His shoulder ached a little from the recoil, but it was nothing he couldn't handle. He rubbed at the pain absently, watching as Quill began flying in their direction.

"Good shot!" Quill exclaimed when he was within earshot. The mask he wore vanished, revealing a broad grin.

"Thanks," Tony repeated, a little more confidently this time. Hearing genuine praise was enough to make his stomach flutter. Had this been the Avengers, there was no doubt in his mind that the last thing Rogers would've done was thank him. It was way more likely that Tony would've been treated to a long lecture about how being a team player meant following orders and only doing what you were told to do. Tony had never figured out if that was because Rogers genuinely thought his way was always best, or if it was because Rogers got his tights in a twist whenever someone else saved the day. Frankly, it could have been a combination of both.

"Was anyone injured?" Mantis asked.

"No, I don't think so. Gamora might be a bit bruised, but that's about it." Quill holstered his guns and put his hands on his hips. "Only thing left to do is collect our reward - er, tell them that the job is done."

Tony smiled in spite of himself. He didn't begrudge the Guardians for accepting rewards. Unlike the Avengers, the Guardians didn't have a rich benefactor who could fund their every whim. And considering that they had a whole galaxy to protect instead of just one planet, it was unreasonable to expect them to hold down any kind of a job. Gamora had made it clear that they _never_ charged for a job, and that they would happily work for free for anyone that needed it - but neither would they ever deny a physical form of gratitude, be it a free meal, money or otherwise. Considering that those rewards kept them going, it was, in Tony's opinion, a reasonable way to operate.

Quill walked back to join Drax and Gamora. Nebula returned to the ship, sparing Tony a glance. "Good job," she said shortly, then walked away before Tony could think of an answer.

"She likes you," Mantis said.

"Uh, not too sure about that," Tony said. 

Mantis just smiled. "Nebula has a hard time with emotions," she said wisely. "She often doesn't understand what she is feeling. I would not take her comments personally."

"I don't," Tony said. Nebula was a thousand times nicer than Rogers on a good day. He could live with someone who was lukewarm towards him.

He stood up slowly, mindful of the renewed ache in his shoulder that was spreading into his chest, and hefted the gun into his arms. Groot followed as Tony went back into the ship and headed for the small closet that housed most of their weapons. That was where Rocket had gotten the gun from earlier. Tony tapped in the access code he'd seen Quill use and opened the door. He was met with a large variety of weapons, some of which he couldn't have begun to recognize. Curiosity buzzed through him and it was only a more pressing matter that kept him from exploring the weapons in detail.

The cube that held the Iron Man armor was sitting on the top shelf, right where Gamora had said it would be. She'd told him that no one had touched it since she'd put it up there, and that - in spite of Rocket's curiosity - no one would be touching except for Tony. The most surprising thing about the conversation was that Tony had actually believed her when she said that. It probably wasn't healthy to keep comparing the Avengers and the Guardians, but Tony couldn't help thinking that Natasha and Clint would have been into the cube faster than you could blink. The two spies had never let a little thing like personal boundaries or privacy stop them from trying to snoop into things that weren't their business.

He'd never really had the chance to examine the cube before. He picked it up, surprised by how light it was considering what it contained. In the dim light of the ship, the sides took on a glossy blue sheen instead of the black he'd thought it was before. Tony ran his fingers over one of the sides, curious to find that it was very smooth and supple to the touch, not like metal. Remembering how Gamora had pressed something on the top of it to make it work, he lightly touched the top. Along the third side, he found a small button. He pressed it.

The same yellow light flowed out of the cube and down the hallway. The Iron Man armor appeared within the yellow light and fell a couple of feet to the ground. Tony winced automatically at the fall, but had to admit that it hadn't really done much damage: mostly because the armor was already beaten to hell. The metal was dinged and bent in several places, which accounted for the brusing that covered most of Tony's torso, arms and legs. Several places were bent inwards from blows. The helmet was in pieces now from being torn apart. Most of the paint had been scraped off, and what remained was now covered in dried blood.

And there, right in the middle of the arc reactor, was a deep hole in the shape of the curve of Captain America's shield.

Tony's breath quickened as he stared at the spot where Rogers had tried to kill him. Because there was no other way of putting it: the force of that blow had nearly killed Tony. It would have killed him if he hadn't had the armor, or if the arc reactor was still powering his heart instead of just the suit. He really couldn't bring himself to believe that Rogers had known just the right amount of force to use that would incapacitate but not kill. It was far more likely that Rogers had misjudged how hard he should hit and left Tony alive by mistake.

Rogers's next course of action only supported that theory: he, Barnes and T'Challa had abandoned Tony in the middle of Siberia with a malfunctioning suit and so many wounds that that bleeding out would've been more likely than freezing to death. Not a single one of them had cared enough to make sure that Tony had a way home. They hadn't put any thought into the fact that Rogers had killed the suit and left Tony incapable of contacting FRIDAY or Vision. No. As long as Barnes was safe and T'Challa had the man responsible for killing his father, no further consideration had been given to Tony at all.

That was just like Rogers, Tony thought. He wouldn't outright kill Tony. No, that would mean Rogers would have to get his head out of his ass and face up to the fact that he wasn't a good person. If the shield had killed Tony, Rogers could claim self defence. If Tony had frozen to death, Rogers could claim he hadn't known how bad the damage was. Then again, Barnes had murdered Tony's parents and Rogers had no problem finding all sorts of excuses there. It was possible that Rogers could kill Tony in cold blood and still excuse himself.

"Tony?"

The sound of Quill's voice made Tony jump and nearly drop the cube. He suddenly realized that, at some point, he'd leaned against the wall and slid down it until he was huddled into a small ball on the floor, knees drawn up tightly against his chest. His whole body was aching from the position, but he couldn't bring himself to uncurl. His hands were shaking badly and his heart was racing. He tried to inhale and realized that he was holding his breath. His mouth actually hurt from how tightly his lips were pressed together.

"Tony, hey. Angel, what's wrong?" Quill knelt down beside him and, without the slightest bit of hesitation, pulled Tony into his arms. Tony froze in astonishment, not really sure how to take the nickname or the unexpected gesture. It was the closest he'd been to Quill since Quill had carried him into the Milano that day in Siberia and he couldn't deny that the close contact made his heart pound for a whole different reason.

Quill hugged him hard, but not so hard that it hurt. It was like he knew exactly how much pressure to use. Gradually, Tony began to relax in spite of himself. His side was pressed against Quill's chest, so his ear was perfectly positioned over Quill's heart. The rhythmic thumping began to overcome even the sound of Tony's panicked breathing, and he found himself unconsciously timing his breaths to the movement of Quill's chest as he breathed. When he shut his eyes and focused on the feel of Quill's hands on his back, it was easier to feel the panic receding and he thought he could speak without breaking apart.

"I was remembering," he whispered, unable to contain a shudder. Knowing that someone he had considered a teammate had tried to kill him was a difficult burden to bear. Was he really such a terrible person?

“I thought that you might be,” Quill said quietly. “Why?”

“I just… I wanted to see if I could repair the armor,” Tony said, turning his head so that his face was tucked into the curve of Quill’s throat. He knew now that, even if the Mark XLVI was capable of being fixed, Tony would never again wear it. It was too much of a reminder of everything that gone wrong in his life.


	7. Chapter 7

A battle always left Peter riding an adrenaline high. He was flush with both success and pride as he helped Gamora onto the ship, her arm draped over his shoulders. The blast hadn’t done any real damage, but she’d twisted her ankle when she landed. Drax took her weight once they were up the platform and led her to where Nebula was waiting. Peter, knowing that Drax and Nebula would take care of Gamora, looked around for Tony.

“Groot, where did Tony go?” he asked.

“I am Groot,” Groot said, gesturing with a branch.

Finding Tony in the midst of a panic attack was not what Peter expected. He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t this. His brain went blank and for a moment he was left floundering, uncertain as to whether he should call for Mantis or try to help himself. It was the memory of Tony’s discomfort over Mantis’s methods that finally decided it, and the soft cry that Tony let out that got him moving. 

Tony remained tense for a long moment before melting into Peter’s arms. It was easier to hug him then, and Peter shifted back against the wall so that he could better pull Tony into his lap. He didn’t think Tony was aware of the movement, but that was fine: all Peter wanted Tony to concentrate on was remembering how to breathe. The tight, stuttered gasps, interspersed with the occasional whimper, were making Peter’s own lungs ache in sympathy. He tried to keep his own breathing calm to help.

When Tony admitted that he was remembering the events that had led to the destruction of his armor, Peter was glad that Tony wasn’t looking directly at him. A whole new rush of anger flooded through him and it took effort to keep his body relaxed enough so that Tony wouldn’t notice. He didn’t know a whole about the Iron Man armor, but Tony had always spoken of it with obvious pride. Right now he couldn’t even look at it.

“Angel, I’m going to put the armor away now. Is that okay?” Peter asked gently. The nickname rolled out so naturally that he couldn’t help it. As far as he was concerned, Tony was an angel. His angel.

“Please,” Tony whispered, a tremor running through him.

Peter shifted them until he could get his right hand free and then reached for the storage device that Tony had dropped. He found and pressed the button on top, illuminating the armor in a wash of light. It was drawn into the storage device in a matter of seconds. He tucked the device into his pocket, vowing to put it somewhere safe where Tony wouldn’t have to look at it unless he wanted to.

“It’s gone,” Peter murmured, wondering what to do next. The corridor was chilly and Tony was trembling; he couldn’t tell if it was from cold or fear or both, but it probably wasn’t doing him any good to sit here. He shifted again until he got his feet under him and then stood, easily lifting Tony’s weight with him – not for the first time, he was grateful for the increased strength that mess with Ego had left him with. Tony let out a startled yelp and clutched him tighter.

“Give a man some warning before you do that!” he gasped, sounding a little more like the Tony Peter knew.

“Sorry,” Peter said, not particularly sorry at all, and carried Tony back to his room. Their room. Tony’s room. Tony had been sleeping in his bed, while Peter crashed on the couch. With the addition of Mantis and Nebula, the Milano was a little short on sleeping space. As it was, Gamora had changed her room around to make space for Nebula. Peter had vague thoughts about paying for an expansion at some point, but that would cost more money than they had right now. Though the tidy little reward they’d gotten from destroying that alien had helped.

He set Tony down on the bed and started to straighten up, but Tony kept holding onto him. Peter hesitated for a moment and then slowly sat down, ready to jump up again if Tony gave any signs of not wanting him there, but Tony just buried his face in Peter’s shoulder again. Taking that for a sign, Peter lowered them both to the pillows so they were laying down and just held his soulmate.

It took a while, but gradually Tony’s trembling ceased as his breathing deepened. A quick glance revealed that Tony had drifted off to sleep. Peter sighed and pulled the blankets up around them, resting his head on Tony’s hair. He was more relieved than ever that he’d gotten Tony to agree that he wouldn’t return to Earth without healing fully first. He couldn’t imagine how bad it would’ve been if Tony had gone back to Earth immediately.

Or worse, if Peter hadn’t been there to take him away in the first place.

He tightened his grip reflexively at the thought and Tony made a quiet noise in response, cuddling closer. The instinctual response softened some of Peter’s anger and he sighed again, nuzzling Tony’s hair. This sweet man. He couldn’t understand how or why anyone would want to hurt Tony, and it hadn’t taken long for the rest of the Guardians to feel the same way. They’d all jumped at the chance to accompany Tony back to Earth when Peter mentioned it. Rocket in particular was eager, though that was more about Earth’s technology than Tony.

For Peter, it was all about Tony. He wasn’t sure what kind of support Tony had on Earth, but it sure couldn’t hurt for Tony to have more people in his corner. Especially if the assholes who’d done this to him ended up coming around again. This time _they_ would be the ones who would end up on the wrong side of things; he was never going to let Tony get hurt again if he could help it. 

At some point he must’ve drifted off to sleep too as the last of the adrenaline from the battle faded away. Tony woke him up when he pulled the covers back and let cool air in. Peter blinked fuzzily, peering up at him. Tony smiled and mouthed ‘bathroom’ as he gingerly stood and hobbled awkwardly out of the room. Peter watched him go and then sank back against the pillows with a sigh.

He hadn’t had a nightmare. That was new for both of them; unfortunately Tony wasn’t the only one who regularly had nightmares. Peter’s typically featured Ego killing people and taking over the universe, Yondu or his mother or the rest of the Guardians dying, or – more recently – Tony dying. He’d woken up more times in the past little while with Tony’s name on his lips than he could count. Groot was getting sick of being woken up.

He stayed in bed but pushed himself up a little as Tony came back into the room. He was moving stiffly, which means his wounds were giving him trouble – they often did, after he was still for long periods of time. Peter was pleased to notice that Tony was carrying a cup of the tea with him. They kept it a pot of it brewed at all times in the stasis cupboard even before Tony came; Gamora had probably drank some after the battle, though right now Tony was the one who was consuming the most by far. 

“Okay?” Peter asked, keeping his voice quiet. The room was so dark he could barely see Tony. Normally Peter slept with space above and around him, but right now the curtains were drawn for Tony’s peace of mind. He wondered if Tony could ever come to love space the way that Peter did. 

Just as quickly, he pushed those thoughts out of his head. In the middle of the night, when he couldn’t sleep, he’d lost hours to wondering whether Tony would ever join them full time in space or whether Peter could ever be happy on Earth. But he also knew that those kinds of thoughts were pointless right now. He and Tony didn’t know each other well enough yet, and if Thanos had his way none of them would even have a future.

“I’ve been better,” Tony said. He sounded tired and sad. He sat on the bed and a moment later Peter heard him sipping at the tea.

“I’m sorry your team treated you so badly,” Peter said. 

Tony sighed. “I don’t think we ever really a team, that’s the problem. I thought we were, but a team has to be more than just a group of people with a common goal. You have to _want_ to be a team. I didn’t realize it at the time, but no one else wanted that. Except maybe Bruce, but even he left.”

“Bruce?” Peter repeated. He vaguely remembered Tony mentioning the name before, but he’d been pretty focused on other things at the time. He shifted onto his side and looked at the outline of his soul mate.

“Yeah. He can turn into a big green rage monster. Pretty helpful to have around, but I liked Bruce too. I thought he would stay. But after Maximoff got into our heads, he took off. I haven’t seen him in years. He didn’t even say good-bye.”

Peter didn’t know what to say. He didn’t think there was anything he could say. He reached over, groping around in the dark, until he found Tony’s hand, then laced their fingers together. Tony squeezed his hand. That seemed to give him the courage to keep talking.

“Then there was Thor,” Tony added. “He’s an Asgardian. The first real alien we encountered. He was interested in fighting with us, or I thought he was. I should’ve known: he was always more interested in what was going on on Asgard than he was with anything on Earth. He ended up leaving after the whole Ultron mess too. I have to admit I wasn’t that disappointed to see Thor go. After someone grabs you by the throat and lifts you off the ground, you kinda stop wanting to spend a lot of time with them.”

“He _what_?” Peter said, astonished. Had there been anyone on Tony’s team who hadn’t betrayed or hurt him in some way?

“He was angry,” Tony said, as though that excused it. “He’d just found out about Ultron. He accused me of messing with powers I didn’t understand and then he grabbed me.” His fingers flexed around Peter’s and then he let out a shuddery little exhale, like he was testing to be sure he could still breathe.

“Did he hurt you?” Peter asked. It was the only thing he could think of to say. Every time he thought he’d heard the worst of what Tony had to tell him, something new came up. This didn’t top Tony being beaten and left for dead in a frozen wasteland, but it was a pretty close second. Peter, better than anyone else on the ship, knew how fragile humans were and how powerful Asgardians were by comparison. 

Tony considered the question. “A little. My throat was really sore. I had some bruising. But I don’t think anyone realized it was from Thor. We fought Ultron not too long after that and we all got banged up during the fight. Thor left right after that; I don’t even think he remembered doing it.”

The worst part about this was how _calm_ Tony sounded. If Drax had lost his temper and grabbed Peter around the throat and lifted him off the floor, Peter couldn’t say he would never forgive Drax – but it would be a hell of a long time before any trust was rebuilt between them, and it definitely wouldn’t happen unless Drax was genuinely remorseful. Tony was talking like this had been an average day for him.

“Were you alone when he grabbed you? What did the others do?” Peter said.

“Nothing. They stood and watched. They were angry too.”

That was it. Unable to bear it, Peter surged up and wrapped his arms around Tony in a fierce hug. Tony yelped and the cup he’d been drinking from hit the ground, but Peter didn’t care. There were more cups, but there was only one Tony. He held onto Tony, grinding his teeth together to hold back the surge of rage and protectiveness, until he thought he could speak without choking.

“They didn’t deserve you,” he said fiercely. “You’re worth so much more than them, Tony.”

“… You made me drop my tea,” Tony whispered, his voice cracking. His shaking hand latched onto Peter’s back, clinging to the material.


	8. Chapter 8

Time passed differently in space than it did on Earth. Tony had no way of knowing how long he’d been with the Guardians. He thought it might be somewhere in the realm of three months, but his estimations could’ve been way off. He did know that the physical damage to his body was finally healed to the point where Quill had agreed they could return to Earth. The _emotional_ damage was a whole different story.

His whole body felt tense with nerves as he watched the descent into Earth’s atmosphere from his seat, right behind Mantis and Drax. No one was speaking. He thought that everyone else might be excited, though no one had actually said anything to his face. He suspected that probably had more to do with Quill than with Rocket, Drax or Mantis developing any sense of tact.

“Coming in for a landing!” Rocket bellowed as the billowing clouds suddenly parted. Tony’s stomach twisted as he caught his first glimpse of New York City. It was a relief to see the city standing in one piece, even though he’d expected nothing less.

“They’re very small,” Gamora said, studying the city with a cocked head.

“We’re high up,” Tony reminded her as Rocket threw the thrusters forward. They were all jerked back against their chairs as the Milano shot forward. He’d purposely given Rocket the coordinates for the compound instead of the tower. The compound was built on several acres, so they would have more privacy. With the Avengers gone, there shouldn’t be many people around this time of day. There was no need to alarm the public with stories of a spaceship touching down in NYC.

He wasn’t expecting the impact of seeing the compound again; it left Tony breathless, remembering how much hope he’d had for the place while it was being built. The dreams about the Avengers being a full-fledged team that actively recruited new members instead of just replacing the old ones against their wishes. Nothing ever went the way he planned, so he didn’t know why he’d thought this might be different.

Rocket touched the ship down about five hundred yards from the compound. Mantis and Groot were the first ones out of their seats. Tony was slower, removing his seatbelt and standing. Though he never wanted to be viewed as weak, he was infinitely grateful when Quill stepped over to his side and laced their fingers together. It was becoming a common thing between them and it always surprised Tony by just how much strength his soul mate’s presence leant him.

The door rose, and the plank lowered itself. The smell of flowers and pine rushed into the ship. Mantis sniffed deeply and smiled. “Oh, I like this,” she said happily. “It smells nice.”

“The work of literally dozens of highly paid gardeners,” Tony told her, following Rocket and Gamora down the plank with Quill at his side. Drax, Nebula, Groot and Mantis brought up the rear. It was unexpectedly cold, enough so that Tony could see his breath in the air. He didn’t get much of a chance to look around, though.

Their arrival had not gone unnoticed, though Tony was expecting that. A handful of SHIELD agents, led by none other than Nick Fury himself, were standing a dozen feet away, guns up. Fury must have recognized Tony because he straightened up and let his gun fall slightly, though he doesn’t holster it. The SHIELD agents continued to point guns at them and would until Fury gave the order.

“Hey Nick,” Tony called out, keeping his voice mild. His grip on Quill’s hand was probably painfully tight, but Quill never let on that it hurt. Gamora and Nebula had both drawn their weapons at the sight of guns. Tony was grateful he’d thought to warn them this might happen. So long as no one in SHIELD got trigger happy, they might be okay here.

“Stark,” Fury said. Someone might’ve called it a sigh of relief. “Where the hell have you been?”

“I got kidnapped by aliens,” Tony said.

Fury’s eye blinked. “What.”

“No, seriously. Nick Fury, meet the Guardians of the Galaxy. This is Peter Quill, Gamora, Nebula, Drax, Rocket, Mantis and Groot.” Tony named them quickly. “Everyone, this is Nick Fury.”

“He doesn’t look furious,” Drax said thoughtfully.

“It’s a last name, Drax,” Quill said. “We’ve been over this. Last names, not titles.”

“Are you brainwashed?” Fury demanded. “Did you lead hostile invaders here?”

Tony snorted. “The only person who’s ever messed around in my brain was a part of the Avengers,” he said. Quill’s fingers tightened at the mention of Maximoff, but when Tony glanced at him Quill’s face was studiously blank. “I assure you, they’re not hostile. In fact, it’s the opposite. They’re here to help protect the Earth. And believe me, Nick. We’re going to need all the help we can get.”

Fury watched him for a long moment before giving a sharp nod. The guns slowly came down and Tony relaxed a little, though he knew the battle was far from over. Nebula and Gamora lowered their weapons too, though they didn’t put them away. Based on some of the stories Quill had told him about less-than-welcome greetings on foreign planets, Tony couldn’t blame them.

“You’ve missed a lot,” Fury said quietly.

“It was necessary,” Tony said, unwilling to make excuses or apologies. At least not to Fury. 

Fury studied him for a moment, expression giving nothing away, before he gave a short nod. “Come. I’ll fill you in.”

This time Tony went first, Quill at his side, and the other Guardians fell into line behind them as they followed Fury back to the compound. Up close, Tony could see that some things had changed. Nothing looked fresh or new now. Now that someone wasn’t pointing a gun in his face, he noticed the remains of snow on the ground and that the trees were all bare. Just how long had he been gone from Earth?

He shivered as they stepped into the compound, grateful for the heat that washed over them. Mantis and Groot, he noticed, looked just as relieved, while the other Guardians seemed to handle the cold better. Drax, naked from the waist up, could’ve been walking through a pleasant summer breeze. Doctors, Tony mused, probably would’ve given their right hands to spend five minutes with him.

The compound was much busier than Tony had anticipated. Apparently, SHIELD had moved in while he was gone and adopted the building as a base of command. There were agents everywhere Tony looked. Mixed in amongst them were people in black suits and, more rarely, people in colorful costumes. He didn’t recognize any of them, but clearly SHIELD had been doing some recruiting. 

Or at least, Tony thought he didn’t recognize any of them.

“Mr. Stark!” The shout echoed off the walls just as a blur of red and blue landed right in front of Tony. Bouncing up, Spider-Man lunged forward and threw his arms around Tony.

“No, stop!” Tony yelped, waving a hand at the Guardians. “I know him. He’s a kid, it’s fine.”

“He doesn’t look like a child,” Gamora said skeptically, hand still on her sword.

“Mr. Stark!” Spider-Man said again, sounding way too excited. “Oh my god, we thought you were dead!”

Dead? Tony’s stomach twisted. He gingerly hugged the kid back, still a little shocked by the exuberance Spider-Man had shown. A sudden thought occurred to him and he pulled back in alarm. “Wait, you didn’t let them touch your suit right?!”

“Of course not,” Spider-Man said. “Rhodey and FRIDAY helped to do a few modifications to it. They gave me Karen. FRIDAY said you planned to.” He was bouncing on his heels. Behind the mask, Tony was sure that Peter’s grin was stretching from ear to ear. 

Rhodey. As though summoned by the mention of his name, Tony looked up and spotted his best friend. Rhodey was shuffling towards them: walking with the help of what looked like the rudimentary prosthetics Tony had begun brainstorming before he went to Siberia, albeit while also leaning very heavily on a walker. There was a huge smile on his face and tears in his eyes.

Tony let of Quill’s hand and, with another glance at him, walked forward. “That’s some shitty tech you have helping you,” he said shakily.

“My normal genius was gone. I had to branch out,” Rhodey said. His voice broke on the last word and he pushed the walker aside, opening his arms. Tony ran to him, throwing himself into Rhodey’s arms. It felt a little bit like coming home.

“I’m sorry, Rhodey,” Tony whispered for Rhodey’s ears alone, torn up by a renewed swell of guilt. He didn’t regret going with Quill, but he did wish that he could’ve figured out some way to let Rhodey know he was okay. Rhodey could’ve passed the information to people like Pepper and Peter.

“You’re okay? You’re good?” Rhodey said.

“Yeah. I’m good,” Tony replied. It was the truth. He was better than he’d been for a very long time. Nothing about the situation on Earth had changed, but _Tony_ had. 

“Good,” Rhodey said, squeezing him tighter before letting go. “Pepper’s gonna kick your ass.”

“I know. I deserve it,” Tony said, smiling slightly. Pepper would’ve had her hands full dealing with Stark Industries on her own. There were a lot of apologies and some very expensive purchases in Tony’s near future, but it would be worth it. He was certain that Pepper would forgive him eventually, especially once he introduced her to Gamora and Nebula. Pepper deserved more kickass friends.

“Hell yeah you do,” Rhodey said. Without Tony’s support, he reached out until he found the walker so that he could lean on it. Tony glanced down at the prosthetics and frowned. Whoever had built them had done a seriously shoddy job. They kept Rhodey upright, but they weren’t giving him the kind of support he needed. Tony had envisioned the prosthetics as being discreet while functioning as another set of legs. There was no reason why Rhodey should’ve needed a walker.

“Who’d touched my tech?” he asked, bending down a little to poke at the right prosthetic. “Tell me you didn’t let Hammer touch my stuff.”

Rhodey snorted. “Of course that’s where your mind goes,” he said, smiling fondly. 

“I’m just saying –” Tony cut himself off, heart thumping uncomfortably, as two more people walked around the corner to join them. Even dressed in civilian clothing, both were familiar.

“Tones, I’m sorry. I wanted to tell you,” Rhodey hissed, but Tony was deaf to it. It was a show of weakness he would be ashamed for later, but he couldn’t stop himself from backing up – not that he got far. Before Tony had gotten more than three steps away, he banged into something solid. 

Quill. It was Quill. The panic racing through Tony eased and all thoughts of not being seen as weak flew out the window as Quill took his hand again, expression set like cold stone. The other Guardians gathered around them. Groot hopped off Gamora’s shoulder and onto Tony’s left; Gamora herself took up the place on Tony’s left side. Drax was at Tony’s back, radiating disapproval. Tony couldn’t look around to see where Rocket, Nebula and Mantis were, but he sensed they were very close.

Their presence gave him the courage not to run screaming when Steve Rogers said, “Hello, Tony.”


	9. Chapter 9

Just based off Tony’s reaction, Peter recognized Rogers. He was a big man, taller than Tony and broader in the shoulders. The woman standing beside him had red hair and was wearing a sleek black uniform. Peter figured she was probably Romanov, as there was no sign of magic around her hands. Either way, it didn’t matter. He laid a hand on his gun, fully ready to shoot them both.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Tony said, voice low and strained. His hands were shaking. Peter tightened his grip, willing support and strength into his soul mate. He regretted bringing Tony back to Earth now.

“Tony, please don’t be like that,” Rogers said. 

Tony stared at him. “Are you kidding me right now?” He turned to Rhodes and Fury. “No, seriously, what the hell are they doing here?”

“You’ve been gone for two years, Stark,” Fury said. Tony went white, and it was a good thing that he was standing between Gamora and Peter because Peter felt him wobble. He was pretty sure that Tony would’ve gone straight down had he not been receiving the extra support. 

“Two years?” Tony repeated in a shocked whisper. “That’s impossible.”

Over his head, Peter exchanged a quick look with Gamora. It actually wasn’t impossible at all. One of the first things you learned about space was that each planet was its own little world. Two days spent on one planet could be as much as two years on another, or as little as two seconds. Peter regretted not making the calculations to see what Earth’s time was like compared to the pocket of space where the Milano had been. What had felt like approximately three to four months to them had, in fact, been far longer as far as Earth was concerned.

“He’s not lying, Tones,” Rhodes said, sounding strained. “They thought you were dead. Pepper and I knew that you weren’t… though we never really took the whole ‘abducted by aliens’ theory seriously.”

“So you…” Tony looked back at Rogers and Romanov.

“We’ve received pardons,” Romanov said. “The United Nations needed the Avengers more than they needed to punish us.” There was a smug note in her voice, one that even Peter picked up on. It seemed to inflame Tony. He straightened, some of the color coming back into his cheeks, his eyes narrowing.

“Rhodey, you said you and Pepper thought I wasn’t dead. Does that mean I’m not legally dead? Do I still own this compound?”

Rhodes blinked, looking surprised. “No, you’re not legally dead. There was no body and you’ve disappeared for long periods of time before, so they had to wait seven years before they could declare you dead. Even though certain people have been pushing for that since day one.” He glowered at Rogers and Romanov. Rogers, at least, had the grace to look slightly ashamed, though Romanov just sniffed.

“And the compound?” Tony asked again.

“It’s still yours. Pepper refused to make any major changes without your agreement. She’s… really missed you. We both did.” Rhodes looked back at Tony like he couldn’t believe Tony was really standing there.

Tony nodded. “Good. Then I want you out.” He directed the comment to Rogers, Romanov and Fury.

“Tony!” Rogers gasped.

“Stark!” Fury snapped at the same time. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“I’m not being an idiot. This is my compound and I’m allowed to dictate who can be here and who can’t. And I say that you three, along with your friends, need to get out,” Tony said. “I’m not sharing a place with someone who literally almost killed me.”

“What?” the guy in the red and blue suit, the one who had greeted Tony with such exuberance, piped up. “What do you mean, almost killed you?”

“Oh, you mean you and your little friend neglected to share that bit of information?” Tony gave a cold, nasty smile. “Yeah. When I got to that bunker in Siberia, Zemo showed me footage of the Winter Soldier killing my parents. I lost it and attacked Barnes. In return, Rogers and Barnes teamed up and beat me until the suit died. I wasn’t far behind. It was pure luck than my new friends,” he nodded to the Guardians, “showed up and saved me.”

“ _What_?!” Rhodes exclaimed. “Rogers, you piece of shit!”

“Tony, that’s not how it happened. You were trying to kill Bucky. We had to stop you,” Rogers said. He sounded like he was explaining things to a two-year-old child, instead of speaking to a grown man. The condescending tone was the last straw. Peter’s temper snapped.

“Oh really?” he said, speaking for the first time. His voice was like ice. “Since when did stopping someone mean almost killing them? Incapacitating a human isn’t that hard. You break a leg, maybe two. An arm if necessary. You don’t beat them until they’re bleeding out, with multiple broken bones, and then leave them to either bleed or freeze to death in the middle of fucking no where!”

“We didn’t know it was that bad,” Rogers said. “Who are you?”

Peter slipped his hand out of Tony’s and strode forward. “We’re Tony’s new team,” he announced to the room in general. “Or, since the rest of you never gave a shit about him, maybe you could say we’re the first team he’s ever really had.” He had no problem getting in Rogers’s face, and was pleased to see that they were of a height. He might even have been a tiny bit taller. 

“Tony’s an Avenger,” Rogers snapped.

“Actually, I’m not. Consider this my official resignation,” Tony said from behind Peter. “I don’t work with people I can’t trust.”

Romanov scoffed. “You don’t even know what trust is.” She moved; there was the clash of metal. Peter glanced to the side and saw Gamora, sword drawn and expertly placed between Peter and the dagger Romanov was holding. Gamora twisted her hand, forcing Romanov to either drop the dagger or lose a finger. Romanov froze.

The two women stared at each other for a long time. Peter, watching them, smirked. Gamora was the best fighter he’d ever met. Tony had told them that this Romanov was an excellent fighter as well, but she had only ever trained on Earth. Thanos had made sure that Gamora was trained in numerous fighting styles. There was no doubt in Peter’s mind that, if they fought, Romanov would not emerge as the winner. 

Finally, Romanov opened her hand. The dagger fell to the floor.

“Smart woman,” Gamora said softly. “Move again and I’ll cut your hand off.”

“Tony, this is crazy!” Rogers exclaimed. “Stop this!”

Before Peter knew what he was doing, he punched Rogers in the face. Rogers staggered back several steps, one hand covering his nose and mouth. Blood spurted out past his fingers. Peter heard the distant click of several guns, and knew that Fury and the other agents had probably pulled their weapons on him. He didn’t care. Punching Rogers felt satisfying, yet it wasn’t even a tenth of what he deserved. Because of him, he could have lost Tony – his soul mate – before they’d ever met.

“My soul mate told you to get out,” Peter said. He relished the look of shock on Rogers’s face; Romanov inhaled sharply. “If you’re not willing to obey, my team and I are more than willing to _make_ you. It would be our pleasure, as a matter of fact.”

“Stark,” Fury said again. “Think about what you’re doing.”

“I know what I’m doing. I’m clearing my compound of people that have used me and what I have to offer without giving me a damn thing in return,” Tony said. “You’ve got one hour to get your agents out of here. I’m not kidding. Maybe we can talk at some point in the future, and you can explain to me exactly what the fuck you’ve been thinking. But for right now, I want you all gone.”

“So you’re hiding,” Romanov called out. “Figures.”

Tony turned to her. “You know what, Romanov, I don’t even care about your opinion anymore. You don’t matter to me.” Peter felt a surge of pride at those words. They might not be as true as Tony wanted them to be, not yet anyway, but just the fact that Tony had said them made all the difference in the world.

“You’d better listen to him,” Gamora said, drawing Romanov’s attention back to her. Her deadly tone couldn’t be ignored. 

Romanov’s eyes flicked from Gamora to Tony. For a moment, Peter thought she might try to appeal to Tony again. He almost hoped she would. He recognized that expression on Gamora’s face. She was well and truly pissed. A quick glance behind him showed that Drax, Nebula, Rocket, Groot and Mantis were just as angry and ready for battle. The destruction would be pretty bad, but Peter cast a potential fight in their favor.

“Fine. If you’re going to be stupid, we’ll let you drown. Let us know when you realize that you _need_ us,” Romanov said to Tony. She took several steps back until she was beside Rogers.

“Natasha, we can’t,” Rogers said. “We have a duty to help.”

Peter snorted. “Where was that duty when you nearly killed Tony?”

Rogers glared at him. The effect was mitigated by his bloody nose. “You don’t know what’s gone on here. You can’t just come in and –”

“Come on, Steve,” Romanov hissed. She grabbed Rogers’s arm and physically pulled him away. 

“You too, Fury,” Tony said.

“Stark, you don’t know what you’re doing,” Fury said.

“I know exactly what I’m doing. You’ve now got fifty-five minutes.”

Fury’s scowl deepened, but he made a gesture with his hand. Then he turned and strode off. The agents followed him. “You’ll regret this,” he called back over his shoulder.

“Not likely,” Tony whispered, and then, “Spider-kid, no. Stay. You don’t have to go.” His voice was getting shaky. Peter immediately moved back to him and took Tony into his arms, embracing him tightly. Tony’s breath caught and he rested his forehead against Peter’s chest, trembling.

Knowing Tony was over-taxed, Peter looked up. “Can you two go after them and make sure they do as they’re told?” he said to Gamora and Nebula.

“The bald one is mine,” Nebula said, a slow grin crawling across his face. “He thinks too highly of himself.”

“Good, because I have more words for the redhead,” Gamora said. “Drax, you’re with me. Rocket, you’re with Nebula. Those guys had guns. Try not to shoot anyone unless they deserve it.” She stalked off. Drax cracked his knuckles and smiled as he strolled after her.

“What shall I do?” Mantis asked. 

“I am Groot,” Groot said.

Peter rubbed a hand up and down Tony’s back as he considered. Finally, he looked at Rhodes. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to give us a minute.”

That looked like the exact last thing Rhodes wanted to do. He frowned and said, “I don’t –”

“Rhodey, please,” Tony said in a tiny voice.

“Sure,” Rhodes said with a worried look at Tony. “I’ll call Pepper. Kid, you’re with me. And um…” He trailed off, looking at Mantis and Groot. “You two, too. I’ll give you an abbreviated tour.”

Peter nodded at Mantis when she glanced at him. He didn’t watch her and Groot go, too focused on Tony. “I’m so proud of you,” he whispered.

Tony laughed shakily. “You’re probably the only one. They’re all so pissed at me now.”

“Let them. You don’t need them.”

“They don’t think that. Didn’t you hear her? They’re waiting for me to crawl back.”

“Never gonna happen,” Peter said fiercely. “You’ve got us now. We’re your team, Angel. You’re a Guardian, one of us. We’ll never leave you behind. You have my word.”

Tony lifted his head. “You really mean that.”

“Course I do.” It was the worst timing, but Peter couldn’t help himself. He ducked his head and kissed Tony lightly. Just once. Then he pulled back and examined Tony’s face, wondering if he’d crossed a line.

“You kissed me,” Tony said.

“I did. Can I do it again?”

“You told them you were my soul mate,” Tony said, instead of answering.

“Yeah. I’m not ashamed of you. I’m proud that you’re my soul mate.”

“You’re crazy,” Tony whispered, but he was smiling again. “ _My_ crazy Starlord. Come here.” He tangled his hands in Peter’s hair and hauled Peter’s head down. The passionate kiss that followed made Peter forget about everything else – except for one thing. Because he knew then and there, a certainty that sank down to his very bones, that he would fight to the death for Tony, and that nothing would ever keep them apart. They’d conquer everything, even the Avengers or Thanos, together.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://tsuki-chibi.tumblr.com/).


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